Nancy Kerrigan, left, and Tonya Harding work out during an Olympic practice session in Hamar, Norway, about six weeks after Kerrigan was clubbed in the right knee Jan. 6, 1994.

Nancy Kerrigan rebounded from "The Whack Heard Round the World" to win a silver medal behind first-place finisher Oksana Baiul at the 1994 Winter Games in Lillehammer. It was the second Olympic medal for Kerrigan, who won bronze at the 1992 Winter Games in Albertville.

Former Olympic figure skater Tonya Harding poses during the weigh-in for her Feb. 22, 2003, bantamweight fight against Samantha Browning in Memphis, Tenn. Harding lost the four-round bout in a split decision and finished her boxing career, which started with a "Celebrity Boxing" exhibition victory over Paula Jones, with a 3-3 record. Harding's final bout came in Edmonton, Alberta, where she lost to Amy Johnson by technical knockout in the third round June 25, 2004.

Tonya and Nancy. Mention those names to figure skating fans, or even to those with little interest in the sport, and there’s an immediate response of recognition. “Ah, the whack on the knee.”

“Oh, yeah, the ‘Why me? Why me?’ cries.”

“Sure, the scandal.”

Well, it’s been nearly 20 years since Nancy Kerrigan was clubbed after practice in Detroit by a member of a bumbling goon squad hired by Tonya Harding’s ex-husband with the hope of eliminating his former wife’s top competition for the U.S. Olympic team. The assault led to a soap opera that practically created tabloid television journalism, taking what had for decades been a niche sport and putting it squarely into the media mainstream.

By the time a recovered Kerrigan and a besieged Harding reached Lillehammer, their saga was front-page news and can’t-miss TV.

“Mainstream media was constantly looking for the next juicy story, and they were insatiable and they were intrusive,” said Scott Hamilton, the 1984 Olympic champion who pretty much has been the voice of the sport since then. “What I saw and read was alarming. From The New York Times and Washington Post to the National Enquirer, World News and the other tabloids — every member of the media on all levels, no matter their affiliation — they were kind of equal for that moment in pursuing this story.

“It kind of shook me. This was a desperate appetite, a desperate nature. And it kind of dovetailed into the O.J. Simpson stuff later.”

Yet the attention figure skating would get from the scandal was a boon for the sport.

Often considered elitist because of its expense, and only something to watch whenever the Winter Olympics rolled around, skating entered an entirely different realm because of Tonya and Nancy.

That surge in popularity lasted for the rest of the 1990s.

“It really expanded skating so much to the point that it was unsustainable,” says Byron Allen, who produces the Stars On Ice tour as IMG Worldwide’s senior vice president. “What was there for the time was fabulous, and there was so much interest from all angles. Not only for the sport — it did expand the sport — but from the entertainment side, and the scandal side.

“People became household names rapidly with so much exposure … it developed the industry so quickly and so large. But it created unrealistic expectations.”

Suddenly, with the exception of Harding, who would be banned from the sport for life for her role in the attack, skaters were in demand. From the Olympic winners at Lillehammer such as Oksana Baiul, who edged Kerrigan for the gold, to past champions and legends, TV networks couldn’t get enough of skating.

It was, by far, the most lucrative period for skaters in the sport’s history. Some of the biggest names were regularly pulling in seven figures.

With skating relegated back to the niche realm, the attention and money have dwindled.

“Clearly there was an explosion in the sport’s popularity and exposure, which was fun to be part of,” Kerrigan said. “I look at where the sport is now and it is too bad that it has swung so far the other way. It tends to reinforce some people’s perception that what happened to me was good for skating, and that is just not right. Attacking an opponent for personal gain can never be seen as a good thing.”

Excessive TV “killed the golden goose”

“Skating with the Stars.”

“Battle of the Sexes on Ice.”

“Ice Wars.”

Those made-for-television shows — and plenty of others — filled air time as figure skating became must-see TV following the Tonya Harding-Nancy Kerrigan scandal at the 1994 Olympics. Taking note of the incredible ratings from Lillehammer — the apex of the Harding and Kerrigan saga — the networks clamored for more.

With so few true competitions on the schedule — the Grand Prix series wasn’t even around then — TV folks started creating their own. Along with themed shows, there were mixtures of skating and live music, or skating and other sports (gymnastics, most notably).

It was a free-for-all, and some sort of figure skating could be found nearly every night.

“I was producing some of those shows,” 1988 Olympic gold medalist Brian Boitano said, “but I was also hired as one of the headliners for those. I believe in 1995, we had 13 prime-time network pro competitions. Paul Wylie did all of them. I only did five of them; didn’t have the energy to do more.

“It was full time, nonstop. Networks were buying anything. I remember a rock ‘n’ roll competition judged by Playboy bunnies.”

Along with so many programs came so much money. Skaters who had to scrounge to make ends meet in their developmental years became millionaires.

That was terrific for them, but it also led to some bad habits. Habits that couldn’t be hidden from the cameras.

“I think we killed the golden goose,” says Tom Collins, who created and ran the Champions On Ice tour for three decades. “With the TV, skating was on too much. There was nothing new that (viewers) were seeing. The skaters were doing so much, the (tour) shows and then TV, they ran out of routines and costumes and they didn’t have the time to do new things.

“They got stuck in a rut.”

Yet TV’s appetite for skating programming was insatiable. That led to the likes of “Too Hot To Skate,” a pair of made-for-television extravaganzas that included competition on a rink outside of Caesars Palace in Las Vegas.

And the “Great Skate Debate,” in which CBS News imported anchors Harry Smith and Andrea Joyce for an event in Green Bay, Wis., and then Chicago. Not exactly Packers vs. Bears.

But the TV bonanza had become too much a part of figure skating. It led to overkill, and by the end of the 1990s, with the exception of Olympic-related events, the spotlight was dimming.

Now it’s a big deal if NBC airs a highlight package of a Grand Prix event.

Scandal lucrative for (ice) show business

The ice show must go on — anywhere you can find a rink.

Even as Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding were competing at the Lillehammer Olympics in 1994, with the figure skating scandal in full bloom, tour promoters and arena managers were making deals. And more deals.

“It was all the business we could handle, and we did, from 1994,” said Tom Collins, who created Champions On Ice in 1975 and ran it for three decades. “We went from doing mediocre business to doing multiple shows and putting out not just one show, but two. We couldn’t handle all the cities that wanted the show and wanted to see all these Olympics and world figure skating champions.”

Collins’ tour, and Scott Hamilton’s Stars On Ice, featured the top skaters of the 1980s and ’90s. Fans’ appetites were whetted by the Tonya and Nancy soap opera. It didn’t matter to them that Harding was banned for life for her role in the attack on Kerrigan at the 1994 national championships. Nor that Kerrigan was only an occasional participant in the ice shows.

There were dozens of stars to sell, even though they were offshoots of the saga that once dominated the headlines.

“I remember there were definitely more eyeballs, people knew when we were on tours, that we were in town,” said Michelle Kwan, who, at 13, was an alternate for the Lillehammer Games. “It was like Lady Gaga or Madonna is performing. We were rock stars. I remember following Nancy around and she had to put on a wig and sunglasses; she was on every cover of every magazine.

“We had the sold-out shows for 100 shows. It was great for us; in some ways I think I benefited from the attention, the media and the coverage, and the popularity in our country and overseas,” said Kwan, who became a millionaire many times over before her 18th birthday. “Exposure? The sport definitely got the most it ever had in history.”

Kwan went on to win nine U.S. titles and five world championships, plus Olympic silver and bronze. Yet she was Champions On Ice’s opening act early on, an up-and-comer who was followed by a deep array of established stars.

Byron Allen, who produces Stars On Ice as IMG Worldwide’s senior vice president, had a stable of famous skaters from Hamilton to Kristi Yamaguchi and Katarina Witt to Gordeeva and Grinkov to Torvill and Dean — Olympic champions all.

Yet Allen knew that the Tonya and Nancy story drove much of the interest.

“It was leading the news every day, and we were on tour, and we would get on a flight and then had reporters meeting us at the airport in the next city and telling us what the latest was,” Allen said.

Avalanche defenseman Erik Johnson had butterflies before Sunday's game against the Detroit Red Wings. It wasn't because of the big-name opponent, but rather his return from a 13-game injury absence and being stoked to rejoin a team in a playoff push and looking for its third postseason appearance in 10 years.